La bête est à l'intérieur
by Mrs.LongbottomMalfoy
Summary: The beast is within. Drugs and sex and rock and roll and strippers and love and death and heartbreak and sickness and addiction. This is what this beast brings to the table. This is what Enjolras and trying to steer Eponine out of. But who is he kidding, she's the most stubborn person on the planet.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N. So I've actually created a multichapter fanfic. I normally do oneshots. But this is my baby. And I love it to death. The chapters will change POV's. This first one is in Eponine's. You'll be able to tell when it's Eponine's and when it's Enjolras. Eponine loves to cuss. And Enjolras is very polite and doesn't cuss that often. This fic is loosely based on RENT. You'll be able to tell. But like I said, it's loosely based off of it. Not completely. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Les Mis. :(**

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The beast is within. Behind closed doors and hidden in syringes. Going through the veins of young girl's and hidden in the face of a young man who has been in her shoes multiple times and yearns to help her and show her the easy part of living without this beast.

* * *

Its magic. Its unlike anything you will ever feel. Almost nothing can you bring you down from it. This clear, bubbly liquid that fills the syringe. This addiction. This has become her life.

The loud thumping of the club's music has started to shake the bathroom walls. She ties her arm up and thanks to her fucking Montparnasse last night, she has more than enough to supply her fixes for the week. She grits her teeth together as the needle breaks her skin. It doesn't matter where this needle comes from. It never does. She was diagnosed with AIDS just four weeks ago and she's cutting her life expectancy down by continuing the life she has.

But there is not stopping a Thénardier, let alone Éponine.

She unties her arm as the drug rushes threw her veins. She quickly disposes of anything that would make it seem that this stripped just got high in a two cent bathroom.

The cat calls almost make her cringe. But this is who she is. She is the main attraction of this shitty orientation She's tied up and handcuffed to any man in the room that her boss oh so chooses. She finds it sick and revolting. But money is always earned a hard way.

This must be why heroin is her best friend.

She is cheap. She is filthy. She is easy. She is worthless. These are the adjectives that have always been thrown in her face. By man, parent, lover, stranger. These words weigh her down more the the chains they are putting her into at the moment on state. "Ép! Ép! Ép!" The cheers are roaring throughout the crowds. Only for you, she thinks. She shakes her head and looks out at the sea of people.

Her heart could have stopped right then.

That man. That guitar playing, soul crushing with the black leather jacket and the red v neck under neath it, man. He's here. Why the fuck would someone who had some dignity left in them come to a place as raunchy as the Patron-Minette. The two for one lights hit his face just before the spot light blinds her. She sees the outline of his curly head.

Enjolras. That is is name. Antoine Enjolras. She had heard him and his roommate Marius fight over bills and rent for the past two months she's lived underneath them. She's heard the beautiful guitar playing that she's grown found of hearing at two in the morning or seven in the evening. He's broker than shit.

She's broker than shit.

So why have these two penniless rejects of the world have never held a conversation?

"Éponine!" Cosette hissed on stage. "You might want to fucking move around stage if you want to earn a fucking dollar!"

Éponine blinked and nodded. "Sorry." She muttered to her coworker.

Cosette was a lucky stripper, if there were such a thing. Well there must, because she's the prime example. She never gets the loud costumers. They always tip her in large bills. Not one of these audience members have seen her tits or her pussy. Neither have her coworkers. She's a tame beast. Éponine still wonders why she's a stripper, her father is the mayor of New York. She's well off. Éponine believes if you must strip, strip in your part of the city,

Éponine struts on the stage and the cat calls and whistles and hoots and hollers grow louder with each bend of her body. Éponine was about to unhook herself from the chains when she started to shake.

Fucker. She thought. That stupid fucker didn't give me heroin.

Her shaking becomes worse and everyone takes part. Only her coworkers know she has AIDS. But Éponine knows she took her AZT that day. Her shaking becomes unbearable and she falls onto the stage. The crowd becomes silent. She looks up in a daze as Cosette gets her out of the chains and drags her backstage.

"Are you insane!" Her father yells at her. "We have tons of men who are will to pay, pay for you, you whore! And you decide to pass out on me! Pity! I'll be taking your pay for the night."

"Just the fuck up!" Cosette screams. "She's going through a withdrawal."

Éponine's eyes change from brown to green. She screams at the top of her lungs and destroys anything in sight. Cosette runs to the crowd. "Joly!" She yells. "Joly!"

Joly's head perks up as he sees the half naked blonde running to him. "Ép." She breathes heavy from running. "She's….help." She says as Enjolras appears with another beer.

Joly nods and stands. "He'll need to come with me."

Cosette sighs. "She'll be pissed. You know she doesn't like people knowing her story."

Joly rolls his eyes and drags Enjolras with him as he treads through crowd of horny men. "You know Éponine. The main attraction of this demented ring show." Joly starts. "She's a fucking carbon copy of you, man. She's shooting up heroin in bathrooms with shared needles. She's got AIDS."

Enjolras nearly freezes in his tracts. No. No. No. He was not about to witness someone going through a withdrawal. He was two years clean, thank you very much. That life was far behind him and yet still in front of him. "How am I to help?"

"Hold her back."

Enjolras is ushered backstage and sees the hysterical girl. Christ, how young are they picking strippers now.

"Give it to me!" She screams as the other girls try to calm her down. "I need it!"

Joly rushes in front of her. "Oh 'Ponine." He says softly, holding her face firm.

Enjolras watches the girl's body change. She isn't reaching out to anything now. She's gazing into the pre med's eyes and nodding. She's slowing down her breathing. Enjolras smiles slightly at this. Joly was the one who helped him get clean. Joly has more than enough experience for this one.

"Who the fuck is he?" She growled. But who was she kidding. She knew exactly who he was.

"Stay calm, Éponine. I had to bring him. Grantaire is at the meeting."

The meeting was a code for those who had AIDS. It wasn't sponsored or anything like that. It was in the church off of seventh street's basement. It was the closest thing Éponine had to a family. Or at least of those people who would care about her.

"I don't give a fuck….you told him! You told him, you asshole!"

This was when Enjolras steps in. "Please calm down. Joly just wanted to help."

She glares at Enjolras.

"I've sat where you sat with Joly in front of me. I know how it feels, alright?"

She breathes heavily for a few moments when the shaking stops. "You think you know me so well, guitar player." She shook her head.

"I think I know you better than you think."

She rolls her eyes and goes back to the stage. But a hand grips her biceps. "You're the girl on the floor below me."

She smirks and looks at him. "Bravo, guitar player, you recognized me."

He shook his head. "Enjolras." He presents.

She loosens his grip on her. "Just listen to the roar of the people. That is my name." She walks back onto stage and Enjolras is left speechless.

"Éponine! Éponine! Éponine!"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N. So here's chapter two! It's in Enjolras' point of view. Things are calmer in this chapter. But you learn about him. I know this is very OOC. But this is a modernish Les Mis AU story line. **

**Disclaimer: Noppppe.**

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The beast is within. Hidden in stories and the truth. As a marble man, who is dying with every breath he takes tells his story to a girl he met only a few short hours ago, he notices things he wish he never did.

* * *

The two don't see each other again until two nights later. It was Thursday. And Éponine always got Thursday nights off. She's been two days without heroin and it was the longest two days of her life.

Another withdrawal was attacking her small body.

She was screaming. And kicking. Her lamp was broken. Hell, everything in her apartment was broken.

Marius was sitting on the couch as Enjolras held his guitar.

"Go down there." Marius tells the blond.

Enjolras chuckled. "Hell no."

Marius sighed and glared at Enjolras. "Its it because of P-"

"Don't!" Enjolras snapped. "Don't you fucking mention her. Or even compare her to Éponine. " Enjolras threw his guitar down and went to the window. He climbed down the steps and walked into Éponine's apartment.

She screeches once she sees him but he pulls her into his arms. She punches his chest.

"Shh. Éponine. Shhhh." He holds her close and rocks her back and forth. He sits them back onto her couch and cups her face. "Look at me."

She opens her eyes and the bright green eyes haunt into his blue.

"No." She whimpers.

He rests his forehead to hers. "I know its tough."

"No you fucking don't!" She screams. "You're not dying!"

"To hell I am!"

She looks at him softer. "What?"

He sighs. "Diagnosed two years ago."

Her gaze fell to the floor. "I didn't-"

"Not that many people know." He admits.

She slows down her breathing and rests her head in the crook of his neck. He rubs her back slowly.

"Tell me about yourself." She requests.

He looks down at her.

"Anything to calm me down."

He sighs and lays down on couch and she lays her head onto his chest. His heartbeat shouldn't be as rapid as it is. She's just a stripper. A broken stripper who hasn't left his mind in forty eight hours.

"I had a band." He admits.

And that band was everything he wanted. Les Amis was his world. He was the lead singer, Marius the drummer, Grantaire the guitarist and Javert the crew man. Everything he had hoped for was finally coming. Fame. Music. Sex…..drugs. Patria.

The mysterious woman that appeared at all of their shows. She finally had the balls to talk to him after he bought her a tonic and gin.

She told him her name was Patria. She showed him a new world he had never known. Drugs. Sex. Love. A world he had long to see. His songs changed. And everything he had ever cared about was Patria. She was his world. She gave him hope and freedom and love and everything he needed.

She gave him AIDS.

She couldn't take it any longer. Four months into their diagnosis, she took a razor to her wrists. Enjolras was the one to find her.

Eponine traced his jawbone. "I'm so sorry." She murmurs.

He sighs.

Les Amis broke up after Patria's death. That's what they always called it. Death. Never suicide. Javert left to chase after someone and they never heard from him again. He's some sort of a cop now or something like that.

Éponine was softly snoring by the time Enjolras had concluded his story. He lifted her up and frowned at how light she was. He carried her to her bed and pulled the covers over her. He looked at how thin and fragile she was. He shook his head.

Now is not the time to get attached to another dying girl, Enjolras.

He walks back up to his apartment a few minutes later.

"She okay?" Marius bit her lip.

"She's sleeping."

Marius put a hand on Enjolras' shoulder before he went to his room. "And you?"

Enjolras scuffed. "Dandy."


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n. Sorry this took so long. But I really like this chapter. **

**Warning: Attempted rape and mentions of self harm.**

The beast is within. Hidden behind doors and the men that were once trusted and now hated men. When a man saves a woman, things begin to change. The man and woman just do not know how everything in their line of friends will change, because of them.

Nine days. It has been nine days since heroin has been in her fucking system and she hates this feeling. The feeling of always shaking and on edge. She's seen worse days and the scars are reminders on her flesh. Enjolras makes daily visits. She should refuse his company. She's Éponine She doesn't need a guitair player to check on her. But she couldn't refuse. No, she couldn't find the strength to refuse those baby blues.

"Are really going back to work?" He asks as he leans his head on the windowsill.

She sighs and puts on her leopard print coat. "I need money, guitar player."

He nods contently. "That asshole is there."

"And you need to stay out of it."

Enjolras had made it his commitment to keep Montparnasse away from Éponine at her attempted recovery.

"Éponine..."

"I'm a fucking idependent woman, Enjolras! I can take care of myself!" She yelled.

He sighs and begins to climb back up the stairs.

"Enjolras." She groans as she walks after him. "I'm still coming over for breakfast tomorrow!" she yells up the windowsill and walks out of her apartment, grabbing her cigarettes and walking on the streets.

The streets have never been a safe place for Éponine She was a prostitute at a young age to feed her siblings and her father's drinking problem. Her mother took a gun to her head the second Éponine turned sixteen. Right in Éponine's line of fucking vision too.

Her heels click down the damned streets. Chuckles of drunken men make her skin crawl as memories of them fucking her on a brink wall fill her mind. She shakes the feeling off and walks into the club.

There's a sign in the dressing room. Its been there for four months and twelve days. It has been there since Éponine old the girls of her diagnosis. "Ép. AZT or no stage." It read.

The girls all smile once they see her and point to the sign. She smiles and nods as she puts her outfit for the night when a dark chuckle fills them room.

"Miss me?" His old husky voice that use to send sensual shivers down her spine now sends warning flags to her head.

Her back straightens as she turns around. His mop of brown hair and evil smirk says it all. "Montparnasse." She spoke through gritted teeth.

He put his hand on her shoulder and she shakes it off. "Stop." She warns. Oh how she wishes the other girls were back here with her.

He sighs. "You know you want this."

"No I don't." C'mon Éponine You can do it. You can get this scumbag off of you.

His hot breath is on her neck and fear overtakes her body. Her spine relaxes and she leans into his touch. She bites her lip and draws blood to keep herself from crying.

"That's right, you slut." He whispers.

And she whimpers. Fuck. She shouldn't have done that.

In a matter of moments her top was on the floor, the first clasp of her bra was undone. She closed her eyes because she knew it would be over soon.

The door swung open to the dressing room.

"Just calm the fuck down, Enjol-"

Cossette's voice turned into a squeak at the sight of Montparnasse's pants and boxers on the floor and Éponine aid out on the table. A syringe in Montparnasse's hand as the needle was broken in Éponine's kin.

The rest was a blur to Éponine She heard a punch and the syringe broke on the ground. Her clothes were put back on her gingerly. Enjolras told the manager that she wasn't going to be in for the rest of the night. She saw a flash of red and blue and white. She was floating She felt rain fall onto her face once everything became clear once more.

"Put me down, guitar boy!" She squirms in Enjolras's arms the moment she figured that was why she was floating.

"Shh." He says as he climbs up the stairs.

"No. I need money!"

He sets her down and puts his hands on her shoulders. "Éponine! You were almost raped tonight. You're staying in my apartment and you can't say no. Marius is going to be at Cosette's."

She nods slowly and begins to rock back and forth.

No. Not now. Not another damned withdrawal.

Enjolras picks her up once more and treads up the stairs once more. He opens the door to the apartment and lays her on his bed. He walks over to his dresser and pulls her out a shirt. He leaves her alone as she changes.

Époninestares at her body and sees the already forming bruises. Damn fucking pasty skin. She pulls the red sweater over her body and lays down on the cheaply made bed. It's still better than the cot that she owns. She pulls a black quilt up to her chin when Enjolras comes back in.

"Got pain pills and water and some pretzels. If you need anything else, I'm right out side the door." He says as he sets the said items on the nightstand.

She looks up. "Thank you."

He smiles and leaves the room, clicking the door shut.

She stares at the ceiling after an hour. "Enjolras!" She yells.

And just as she predicted, the sorry fool comes running in.

"Is everything okay?" He asked in a panicked voice.

She sits up and pats the bed beside her. "I-" She bit her lip. "Stay with me until I sleep."

He sighs and lays beside her. His body tensed as she laid her head on his chest.

"Sing me that song you've been working on."

He laughs and it sounds like church bells. "Its not done."

She sighs. "Sing a song."

"Éponine."

"Please?"

He looks down at her with a small smile and nods. "Only if you like the Beatles. If not, I'm kicking you out."

She lets out a giggle then her face becomes stoic. Giggling like a school girl with a man in bed that you've known only twelve days, real classy, Éponine.

Enjolras then begins to sing 'Yesterday' by The Beatles and she slowly falls asleep. Enjolras soon follows.

And that is how Marius found them the next morning. Intertwined hands and legs with even breathing and soft snoring. No reminders of AIDS or heroin or AZT or the previous night. Just relaxation.


End file.
